


Parasomnia

by Hoodoo



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: It's scary for someone watching it, Morty Being Morty, Rick Being Rick, Sleep Disorder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-11
Updated: 2017-12-11
Packaged: 2019-02-13 12:21:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12983964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hoodoo/pseuds/Hoodoo
Summary: Rick routinely pushes himself too hard. He's also a self-admitted alcoholic. So why doesn't he want to sleep?





	Parasomnia

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little ficlet that kept nudging me with its cold, wet nose. I've previously suffered from parasomniac episodes and with everything in Rick Sanchez's life, I think he probably would too.

Rick passes out a lot, but he doesn’t sleep much.

He likes to say that nighttime makes up half of all time and uses it as an excuse to run around the multiverse and work in the garage, but it’s mostly because his brain is too full and if he slows down and actually drops into sleep, memories invade him like dreams.

He has no problems downloading and storing memories for his grandson—at the boy’s request or not—but balks at doing the same for himself.

Drunken stupor isn’t the same as sleeping, which is why he uses alcohol to dampen his mind’s activity. But sometimes he doesn’t have the chance to drink himself into senselessness or what he calls “goddamn fucking _biology”_ before sleep catches up to him unexpectedly.

That can happen wherever, whenever. He’s just dead asleep.

His family has learned to tell the difference, and reacts accordingly.

When he passes out drunk—which is typically in his small bedroom or the garage—whomever finds him make sure he’s breathing, then shifts and rotates him so his head is lower than his body, or at least so he’s on his stomach. No one wants him to aspirate into his lungs if he happens to vomit. Genius or not, someone would have to care for him while he figured out a way to fix his own aspiration pneumonia. 

If he happens to reach the point of no return and falls into an exhausted sleep, it can be anywhere. Luckily, it doesn’t take long for someone to find him, because he is not quiet.

It’s not standard snoring that alerts his family.

It’s the shrieking and flailing—and on one horrifyingly memorable occasion, _sobbing_ —as his memories overrun him.

It’s nearly impossible to wake him, if he involuntarily fell asleep. He is dead to the world.

They’ve discovered it’s best to have someone with him. Someone to cover him with a blanket, someone to put a pillow under his head, someone to re-adjust those comforts if he moves too much. Someone to physically hold him down if he jerks and kicks. Someone to soothe him if he cries out, not to answer the questions he asks because no one knows who Diane was, or why he was denied access to a vault, but to murmur nonsensical shushings and reassurances they hope filter down into the far reaches of his brain.

Occasionally they take shifts, but usually it falls to his grandson to watch over him. Sometimes, after his voice has given out, Morty sits beside his sleeping grandfather and keeps one hand on the man’s arm or ankle. He hopes the physical touch also filters down to his grandfather’s deepest, primal lizard brain.

If it does, Rick never mentions it. He wakes from his slumber renewed, refreshed, and often angry that “they let him sleep”, as if his family was the ones who forced it on him.

They’ve tried to tell him, Morty’s tried to tell him, but he says he doesn’t remember any dreams. He says he doesn’t remember any thrashing or yelling. He only thinks about the time he’s lost when he could have been working or drinking. 

But on rare occasions, when he’s leaving the room after with the harsh sting of “not fucking waking me up” ringing in his ears, Morty thinks he hears his grandfather mutter, 

“Thank you . . .”

Because Rick would deny ever saying it, Morty doesn’t acknowledge the gratitude, but it makes it less bitter to help the next time Rick falls asleep. 

_fin._


End file.
